


Backwards in High Heels

by 20Zvorak17



Series: Fem Sam Wincest [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Attempted Sexual Assault, Canon-Typical Violence, Cas doesn't care because they're soulmates, F/M, Incest, Mary will just have to hunter up, Sexism, There will obviously be differences because of the different relationship, discussion of domestic abuse, female!Sam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2018-11-16 06:45:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11248470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/20Zvorak17/pseuds/20Zvorak17
Summary: Dean shows up and ruins everything she'd worked so hard to build. She goes with him anyway; she was always going to.ORThe one where she can still kick a ghoul's ass, gets underestimated constantly, fights and runs even better than Dean--all of it backwards and in high heels. (She's still in love with him, too, but that's just business as usual.)





	1. Chapter 1

There's a noise that wakes her. Jess, heavy sleeper that she is, doesn't so much as twitch. That might all change once Sam's not in bed--Jess struggles to sleep alone as much as Sam does. Jess knows it's because Sam is used to sharing with her brother--the only person outside the two of them in the world who knows about that relationship and doesn't judge it. As she creeps through her own hallways towards the kitchen she hears Jess's voice in her head.  _People aren't bodies. They_ have _bodies. People are souls. His body is related to yours. Your souls are your own._ It's no wonder why Jess is her best friend, honestly. She knows about the hunting, about Dean, and claims Sam for her bestie anyways. Sam tiptoes through the door of the kitchen, diving at the source of another creak.

For a moment she wonders if this intruder had expected easy, if he's surprised to see a girl hold her own like she is. She's distracted from the thought when her feet are knocked out from under her. Lights from a passing car momentarily flood the kitchen. "Dean?" She blinks before shoving his shoulder. "You scared the crap out of me.

"That's because you're out of practice." And he's cocky enough she can't resist taking him down a peg. Catching him off guard, she wraps a leg around his waist and rolls them over, pinning down his hands. "Or not," he admits. She's done this a million times before--but never in a spar. "Get off me."

She offers a hand to help him up which he accepts, pulling her into a hug. His hands slide down her arms to rest on her hips. "What are you doing here?" She already knows, of course: it's about a hunt; always another beastie. He needs her help and she knows, knows already that she's going. Damned if she isn't going to put up a token protest, mind but the second he showed up the outcome was guaranteed.

"I was hoping for a beer." She supposes she should count herself lucky that beer is what he goes with.

"Go ahead." She snarks dryly. "Might as well continue enabling your drinking habit."

The lights flicks on. Dean expects Sam to pull away from his hold on her; jump away even, as if she's been burned. She's unconcerned instead, in a way that delights him, and then the girl in the smurf's shirt speaks. "Sam?"

She knows that Jess notices Dean's hands still on her hips and the lack of surprise on her face tells Sam that Jess has a guess at who this is. 

"Jess, this is Dean."

"As in  _Dean?"_ There's a significance to the way the blonde says his name that he can't quite place, but Sammy obviously does, acknowledging the question with a meaningful nod.

She asks again what is going on. "Dad's missing."

"Miller-time Shift," she answers dismissively, delicately stepping out of his arms. "He'll come stumbling back in."

His jaw tenses. "Dad's on a Hunting Trip. And he hasn't been home in a few days." By home, she knows, he means in contact and by a few days he probably means a few days  _too many_. She hasn't hidden _this_ from Jess, either, so she has no qualms saying, resigned, "The thing that killed Mom?"

His gaze darts to the blonde. "If you'd rather not discuss this in front of me, I can go back to bed." She offers and extracts herself, because Sam's too polite to take her up on it and while Dean might it'd only make Sam angry. Not worth, is Jessica's conclusion.

They argue a little, of course they do, but she concedes in the end.

"I can't do this by myself."

"Yes you can," she says, because she distinctly remembers him saying that he didn't need her.

"Well, I don't want to."

Honestly? She was always going to slide into the passenger side of his Impala, off on this crazy hunt, because she never stopped being in love with him.

(She's pretty sure he knows that already.)


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically episode one with a side of their relationship at the end.

Men are disappearing and it could be a serial killer as easily as it could be a bump in the night, but of course Dean won’t hear that. So they get to town and under ordinary circumstances, it’d be a stroke of luck to run into Amy and the girl with the ghost story about the bridge. Which does in fact, turn out to be haunted, when their own fucking car tries to kill them. This whatever-it-is is clearly a misandrist because as soon as Dean’s gone over the side of the bridge, it all stops. It was trying harder to hit Dean anyway. Just men isn’t the MO--unfaithful ones are--so either she’s pissed that she’s being found out or she’s counting all the times Dean was in love with Sam but screwing someone else. Sam carefully doesn’t think about that. They check into a motel, one bed, she notices and wonders if it was deliberate or due to habit, but when they go to the room their dad rented—well, when Sam breaks in, because she’s always been better at picking locks, and hauls him in by his jacket—he’s got it all figured out already. Which means he ditched it. Which means this Troy’s disappearance is their father’s fault. Sam’s pretty sure Dean won’t want to hear that either.

And then Dean gets arrested, because of bloody fucking course he does. It leaves Sam with two options: One, truss herself up and play herself off as the victim. She’s not sure she could pull it off and it would only make things worse for Dean. Or two, she can escape. The decision is easy; she makes for the bathroom window. She’ll figure that shit out later.

She does, calling the police station about hearing gunshots—and trust Sam to pick something big enough to get everyone off their asses and still be able to write it off later as backfiring cars and a paranoid passer-by.

He’d learned it early and well as a child, but he’s out of practice with the cuffs. He’s gotten used to breaking out of the cells, to missing court dates having skipped state (scars on his legs from where they’ve cut off monitoring anklets are abundant). He manages anyway, like the pro he is.

First thing he does is call her to let her know it worked. “Fake 911 call, Sammy? I don’t know, that’s pretty illegal.” He teases.

“You’re welcome.” Is all she says, but it’s fraught with meaning. It means ‘you’re welcome’, true, but it also means 'you could be a little grateful', means ‘yeah, well’, it means ‘you never get out of the habit’, it means ‘since when was that more important than you’. Besides which, she’s done stranger things. Hell, they’ve had to get into a swinger’s club before and John sending the two of them to do so was the biggest fight he and Bobby Singer ever had, ended with a shotgun in John’s face.

She tells him about the woman in white and where she’s buried and he tells her about Dad’s journal. For the first time she’s concerned, because their father doesn’t go ANYWHERE without that journal. He panics when she exclaims and then there’s nothing.

This doesn’t really make sense, her being attacked by the woman in white, because first of all not a man; second, not unfaithful. But she’s sure of how this has to happen. Because when the spirit says ‘I can never go home’ it isn’t creepy. It’s sorrowful. So, of course, taking her home is the only way to end this.

It tries to kill her, reaches through her chest for her heart but Dean fires through the window, buying her the time to slam the car inside the house. It’s not a plan Dean loves because he yells her name and chases her in, helps her out of the car.

Sam pities this ghost, just a little, because post-partum psychosis and post-partum depression are so very real but back then? The generation around the woman-in-white still believed that disease could only be of the body. She couldn’t have sought help. At the same time, she drowned her kids and that’s so many levels of not okay; it’s hard to see that the woman might be hurting. She sees her kids and they drag her, well, somewhere, but away from the town.

“So this is where she drowned her kids.” It’s too casual, because Dean is never casual about cases involving kids, but she’ll roll with it.

“That’s why she could never go home,” she says, “she was too scared to face them.”

“You found her weak-spot. Nice work.” He reaches for her out of habit, meaning to bring her in for a kiss, patting her arm awkwardly instead.

She’s got to break this terse silence. “Wish I could say the same for you.” And just like that, with her olive branch and a crack from Dean the camaraderie is back.

She’s reluctant to get out of the Impala. She hasn’t missed hunting, but she’s missed Dean and if she goes now it might be another two years. She slides out anyway and he calls her name, tells her, “We made a hell of a team back there.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, but it smacks of goodbye. Because he won’t stay in touch, he won’t visit, he will be a stranger.

Ten minutes later he’s turning around with a muttered expletive. He can’t explain it but something’s wrong. He can feel it in his gut and he has learned, in this line of work, to trust his gut. And he knows that when his Sammy-senses start tingling he’s got to make his way to her. Last time he’d felt this way he’d found her with scabbed knuckles, a black-eye, and a new ex-boyfriend. Dad had yelled at him for an hour about abandoning a job.

He runs into the house, the sense of wrongness getting stronger the nearer he is to Sam’s room. There’s fire and he drags her out because _protectprotectprotect_ still runs through his veins for her. He pulls her backwards because she’s fighting him and it’s easiest to restrain her this way. The upstairs of her house, her _home_ , explodes. He makes as if it to pull her towards him but aborts the motion halfway through. She’s always found comfort in his touch and he wants to give her that, but he doesn’t know what the rules are anymore. She falls into his chest, though and his arms wrap around her. She doesn’t cry, because she’s Sam, because Winchesters don’t cry, because, being a woman, she’s always had something to prove. “We’ve got work to do,” she finally says and it’s the proud tilt of her chin, the set of her jaw, that convinces him. She gets back into the classic car and wonders if she set this whole thing off, if leaving with Dean the first time put this into motion, if she’d decided the rest of her life in that moment.

They stop at a motel and all they have left is one king, which is fine by her, even when Dean offers to sleep in the Impala. The second the door slams behind them she pulls him in for a kiss. It’s the invitation he’s been waiting for. In less than a minute, she’s against the wall with his hands on her ass and her legs around his waist. “Sam…” his voice trails uncertainly (because this is why she left) even as his fingers tangle in her hair.

“I’m done pretending,” she says, “done pining when I know…”

He looks at her a moment, debating with himself so she takes the initiative, kissing him again, nipping at his bottom lip and he actually growls before transferring her to the bed.

Always a diligent student when it had come to her body, he still knows every inch of it. Knows exactly the angle to crook his fingers, how much she loves his face buried between her legs, that biting her clit is guaranteed to make her come, make her _scream_ the way he likes to hear. He knows her body, his hands do, like a pianist knows Chopin. Breathy moans of his name spill from her tongue when he moves inside her and it’s needy and desperate and _been too long_ but it’s also _I love you, I missed you_ and _Touching you still feels like coming home_.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Episode Two

Sam and Dean would follow each other anywhere. Antarctica or hell or any place...except for when Dean's following their father or Sam's doing what she can to run away. Any other time, it therefore stands to reason, the coordinates in John's journal would've sent her running in the opposite direction. But now? Now there's nowhere for her to run to. Now she left her future after Jess died; now Dean is once again all she has in the world; now she is, somewhat surprisingly, actually concerned about John, about finding him. So they make the unduly long drive, a necessary evil that she wishes weren't so. When they arrive-and who knew a state like California with San Francisco and Hollywood and LA had bumfuck nowhere towns?-all there is are pictures of grizzlies. Dead, in all fairness, but still ungodly large grizzlies.

They introduce themselves twice. First try they get shot down, but on the second...well, the excuse is provided for them and it all goes just so swimmingly. 

They shoot the rangers lie towards the sister, because it's more believable then feds, and though her lip curls in distaste she accepts the lie with more ease than they've a right to expect. She insists that she's going, he wouldn't just forget to check in because they're all each other has-our parents are gone, she'd said--and if that doesn't just hit home... 

Sam's face shows how she understands and Hailey kind of picks up on that, maybe because they're both female and Dean's lived his life operating under the assumption that only women can understand women. Dean gets it, too, thinks he gets it even more than the woman who's saying it, because if Sam went missing? Fucking right he'd go search the place she was last known to be; one better, he'd set the world on fire and watch it burn until he could dig her from the ashes, because if anything's going to still be standing after he razes the world down, it will be Sam. The circumstances aren't exactly the same--probably, anyways--but she's all he's got left in the world, just like the three siblings they're trying to help.

They get it. It doesn't make Sam any more pleased about it. Because she and Dean were raised to do this; she was learning hunters rules alongside her colors. Having those two around is only going to make the job more difficult and Dean  _gets_ that, he does, but they can't stop the immovable force of siblings left behind, so they'll just have to protect them. He wants to shake that into her but the small protest she throws isn't her meaning to fight about it, so he lets the babysitting comment go with nothing more than a look.

He really wants to strangle that guide though. Partly because of his condescension and put-upon airs but mostly because he's obviously underestimating Sam--Stupid Little Girl, he's so obviously thinking, each word capitalized and Sam's used to it but Dean's inexplicably furious over it. He is being very clear what he thinks of being bossed around by a woman. Even though, both Winchesters agree, she's far more competent than the game hunter.

Speaking of, Dean thinks, eyes  _off_ the blonde, _Roy_.

Despite Sam's warning, Roy chases after the damned thing, unphased by her 'It's a better hunter than you' speech, which might've moved a more intelligent man. Thing kills him, as they had tried telling the guy it would, but at least they can be sure it's a wendigo.

Sam realizes then that Dean has been taken, and thinks  _Big mistake, wendigo. Huge._

On the upside, the M&Ms are better than breadcrumbs.

They find everybody alive, only just albeit and the two not-Rangers do little more than exchange glances and they've got a solid plan. Dean tearing off, yelling for the wendigo's attention like John Bender singing Airborne Ranger. It almost doesn't work; Samantha being forced to use herself bodily as a shield for the siblings when the monster starts advancing. Nevertheless, Dean's in time and he fires off the flare gun, killing the wendigo. There is mostly quiet on the trek back out;  the silence only shattering once Hailey makes the call with their satellite phone for an ambulance.

A kiss to Dean's cheek, a touch on Sam's elbow and zero steps closer to finding their Dad. 

 


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Episode 1x5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 276 chapters is too much so I'm just going to pick and choose.

Waking up with Sam feels the same as it always has. The smell of her hair, the warmth of her body, the way she throws a leg over her hips to keep him close. It feels as if they never stopped, as if there hasn't been a night since they started sleeping together that they ever slept apart. Before that even, when he kept a distance between their hips, when he wouldn't allow himself to squeeze her tighter, didn't allow his hands to wander because they were still fighting what was there; even then they slept like this. It's more familiar than most of the things in his life, if Dean's honest.

Watching her sleep in the car is a familiar sight as well, albeit a less favored one. She's slouched as much as her six-foot frame allows; head lolled to the side. She's like a ragdoll when she sleeps, to be honest.

But, not since she was about fifteen has she had a nightmare; she has one now. "Sam!" He about yells, although he resists the urge to shake her. Only barely, but he's afraid that she might come up swinging and he's been driving way too many hours straight to deal with that shit.

"I take it I had a nightmare." She says, tone deliberately light and body language intentionally relaxed. It might be their policy to bottle shit up, no chick flick moments and walk it off, but she is not okay. They're going to have to talk about it eventually and he tells her so. Of course she brushes it off. Of course he lets her.

 

The younger sister thinks for a moment that it's all because of her. Neither Winchester has the heart to tell her it is and her big sister is the one to comfort her. "It's not your fault," is what she tells her.  They let the lie go because there is no need to tell the, "Your prank killed your father." No need to say, "Monsters are real and apparently Bloody Mary is, too."

The friend though, she finds out the hard way, and she is, by the reckoning, responsible for a death. "And you know what I said?" The girl asked them, explaining the suicidal, abusive boyfriend. "I said go ahead."

Sam surprises the girl and Dean and herself a little, too, because she gets it. "You were afraid," Sam insists. "And there's no shame in it; you are not the aggressor, not the abuser. The world expects you to be ashamed, expects you to say 'Your life is more important than mine. You treat me badly, but I'll stay because you need me.' Mary sees it in black and white," Sam concludes, "but you didn't do anything wrong except lose your temper  _like a teenager_.  _Which you are._ "

Nobody doubts that she's speaking from experience.

They cover all of the reflective surfaces and they make a plan to draw her out. He doesn't like it but honestly? He thinks it might be what his sister  _needs_. That she has to face the retribution for her perceived sin. The she needs to prove to herself she's not at fault by killing the thing that would punish her. She doesn't tell him why she thinks it's her fault (the last thing she wants is for him to know she's going all Minority Report on him) and even after, after the struggle, the broken mirrors, the girl who can apparently become corporeal and _crawl out of her fucking mirror,_ she refuses to tell him.

"I'd die for you," she says and makes his heart twinge, "but there's some things I need to keep to myself."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is anyone interested in a triad relationship with Cas? I kind of want to write it, but not if you guys aren't interested, so...


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some fluffy smut or smutty fluff with references to 1x11

He should've expected this was coming after the thing at the asylum, if he's honest. His sister had tried to shoot him she was so fed up with his crap--which he knows he just kept feeding her.  The whole tenuous situation only gets worse when their father calls. Having your sister answer your father's phone call in nothing but your shirt isn't a great start to the morning, and it's probably just as bad for her.

So it's not a surprise when she gets angry enough that she makes him stop the car. Only slightly surprising when she bails and heads for the nearest bus station; he's sure she wanted to do it as a kid a hundred times. He still tries to stop her, though. Holds out a hand to her. "Baby girl," he says, "please."

He says, "I'll leave you here."

He does _not_ say, "Don't leave me again." Maybe those words would've been the ones to stop her from walking away; he will never know.

She tells him no from the start and it just goes downhill from there, devolving quickly, both tempers flaring. Mind, it also isn't a surprise that she answers the phone when he calls. Angry or not she still loves him. And he's lucky that he swallowed his pride to call her. If he hadn't then maybe, after he's captured, tied up as a sacrifice to the freaking _scarecrow_ \--because of course it's a pagan freaking god--she doesn't panic when he doesn't answer. Maybe she doesn't realize anything is wrong. Maybe he and the innocent niece turned sacrifice die. But Sam does come and she does save the day, and no surprise there: it's the Winchester way.

"Can I drop you somewhere?" Because he has to respect her decisions, even if those decisions are breaking his heart.

"No," is the answer, "I think you're stuck with me." She doesn't tell him anything he doesn't already know--not that he minds hearing her say they've got to stick together--but he's glad she sees it. Probably, they should talk more about this (except they're Winchesters so) and if he were a stronger man, if Sam had less control over Dean's emotions or decisions or whatever they wouldn't fall back together so easily after her almost leaving him. He shouldn't be on her the second the motel door closes (or, you know, at all), but he is. He slams her against a wall, pressing his body against hers. Sometimes he handles her like glass but tonight is a reclamation and a celebration in one, so no. His hands skid down the sides of her body to find purchase on her hips, holding hard enough she'll have finger-shaped bruises in the morning. In retaliation, she tugs hard at the hair on his neck, inspiring him to shed his clothes and hers, too. He slides two fingers into her, bowing to suck on her nipple. She lets out this noise when he bites down; it's not a mewl but it's not a whimper, either. Something in between. He doesn't think he's ever heard her make that particular noise and he vows to draw it out of her again. 

He succeeds, giving her a  _sinful_ grin, slow and deliberate, as he sucks his fingers clean. It's enough to make her tense in anticipation. Sex with Dean has never not been great. Still, it's after both of them enjoy the most. Slowing down with long, languorous kisses that leave them boneless; he likes to wake up with his sister in his arms.

Sister. See, for Dean sister and  _my_ sister have two different definitions. He knows how siblings are supposed to be (siblings who aren't codependent, who weren't raised to be partners, ever actually felt like siblings, had friends, spent time with other people during puberty, that is) and that's how he identifies sister.

But when he thinks _my_ sister it's just Sam; sibling but _also_ lover; the light of a supernova in his otherwise dark, lonely existence; comfort and home and family and completeness and wholeness and happiness. Sammy's everything. The 'my' dimension, it just adds things to their relationship. And maybe that's just how he makes it okay, justifies it, but it surely makes sense to him.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still wanting opinions on maybe adding Cas. I have one yes and one no at the moment so I need more input.


	6. Chapter 6

It's awkward as hell when John shows up. And of course it is; their casual affection gets the kybosh. It doesn't bear imagining what John will say or do. It never made them rethink their relationship before and it shouldn't now. After all, it's John's...fault is the wrong word. Fault makes it sound like what they're doing is wrong, bad, unacceptable. But the only people they were consistently around during puberty? Each other. The only person they've ever had? Each other. And that's John's doing. What right does he have to criticize? So they just don't give him the opportunity to do so. Ooh, but it's difficult.  

But it's not, Dean thinks, the most difficult part. No; it's that within five minutes the two are at each other's throats, Sam and their father. And John brings it on himself, Dean knows. Sam needs to be treated like an adult, not a soldier. Refuses to follow orders blindly; God, it's always been 'Why, why, why?' with her. When they pull over, Dean already knows this is going to go south. He's resigned already. Sam is the first to raise her voice, even if John responds in kind and with interest. He touches her hip, just lightly, and it's a risk. John is not unobservant and he's as like to notice the casual touch and the way it calms her as anything. It calms her just slightly-but even so...

After a minute Dean puts himself between them, that comforting hand still on her hip and Sam recognizes the gesture. It's one he's made before, just once, an argument between a seventeen year old Sam and their father having come to a punishing blow.  She'd been upset at the time, her retaliation denied her. But swinging back would just give John an excuse. Now, commonly, their fights led to words that could not be taken back but, until that point, John hadn't ever hit her. _Dean_ had taken a few hits-"a few," is how he phrases it-Sam suspects it's a deliberate understatement-and a few more on her behalf. He'd worked so hard to keep exactly that from happening. Yet there they both were, each intent on decking the other. Of course, she'd been hoping just a little that John would take a swing at her (because then she could swing back). She should've known Dean would never allow that. Ever since she'd started asking why he always intervened the answer'd been the same, "Because you're my kid, Sammy," (and she really was as good as until the age of twelve, _big brother_ meaning _Dad_ and _Dad_ meaning _the man who knocked up their mother_  becausethey've always had a language all their own) shifting slightly after that Alabama summer, becoming "because you're mine."

She still is, in every way

It doesn't escape John's notice, how Dean takes Sam's side and it's somewhat unsurprising to him-they've always been like they are. Close,  _very_ close. At the same time, though, Dean has never contradicted his father. He's never tried to give an order but 'That means you,' is pretty clear. It's a challenge. The message is clear: Get back in your car  _or I will make you._ Sam recognizes the voice immediately. Sam learned young that when he uses that tone, _it's the gospel_ (Eat your mac and cheese, Sammy, or you're going to bed without supper), and John gets the picture almost as quickly.

The mission goes pear-shaped, naturally, and later, when the vampires get a hold of them, it even becomes a squash. Years ago, John would have blamed Sam. even if the tied-up vampire had appeared to be a victim, which she had. Maybe, quietly, he even does.

In theory, it should've been an easy thing. Sure, they'd gotten the Colt, but they'd all almost died in the process. It gets worse, John trapped and outnumbered, Sam being held hostage. They saved John's ass though, the three of them working together astonishingly well, and while he tries to reprimand them for disobeying orders the reminder that he'd have been toast without them leaves him no choice but to concede the point. "You're right," he cannot not admit.

Sam thinks that they should stick together, but Dean convinces her that it's not a good idea. Safety in number, she'd been thinking. Safety in Dad being off the grid, is the successful counter-argument. And it  _is_ a bit of a relief, because they'd had to act a certain way, had to put a distance between their actions that had nearly physically hurt. It felt like being 17 and 21 again, when they had wanted to crawl inside each other and make a home there but couldn't. They'd known, had always known, that to an extent it would have to be this way: the hiding, dialing back on how much they touched each other, controlling the  _way_ that they touched each other. And, honestly, they're adults, both consenting, so it shouldn't be anyone's business besides their own. The world doesn't work that way, though. Unfortunate, but true. But hiding their whole lives?

"Maybe we should..." she doesn't want to say 'admit it', because that sounds shameful, like a wrong-doing of sorts, "come out."

"We can't," he tells her. Her heart drops and she knows it isn't like that, but it still hurts a little. He sighs, "You know you're my whole world, right?"

Of course she does. Sure, she can count on her hands the number of times he's told her he loves her but it isn't like she doesn't know. He makes a hundred little comments a day ('The sunset is beautiful,' she'll say. 'It really is,' he'll respond, watching her. 'You know, Sammy, if you die we won't get the opportunity to get old together and I'd kind of like it if we did.' 'You've always been my whole world.') Anyone can say 'I love you' and they mean it in various ways to varying degrees--maybe they don't mean it at all. But how Dean is, the things he says mean  _I love you_ and  _I adore you_ and  _I have always loved you_ and _I'm never not going to love you'_

It's about a million times better, she's sure.

And maybe it's the life that's done that. Maybe it's that their father used to say 'I love you' and then hadn't proved it. Maybe it's that Dean has never used his words to let her know, his gestures always loud enough. 

He's always been enough.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Benders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The hope is that this chapter does things to your heart.

Of fucking course she's been kidnapped. By freaking _humans_ no less. Dean is never going to let her live this down. Then again, he might just want to never discuss it again. She can barely stand up in this cage, but she can reach right through and get, at least, something for a weapon. Now she's just got to bide her time. It isn't difficult. She's got a plan and it'd be difficult to mess it up. Wait until the opportune moment and bash the guy's head. Unsurprisingly (well... _kind of_ surprisingly because when does anything ever go according to plan?) it works beautifully. They save each other's asses and isn't that always the way of it, anyhow? Neither of them really blink when the cop shoots the elder Bender-it's nothing he doesn't deserve. It's still too close. Both of them came too close to losing the other.

"I was so terrified, Sammy, when you were nowhere to be found, I..."

"I know." She sympathizes, muttering against his lips, "I know, baby. I was scared, too."

Monsters they get. These things are simple embodiments of evil. It isn't the fault of a werewolf that another one bit it; neither werewolf made the choice and now both are killers. But people? Dozens of times these people made the choice to reenact The Most Dangerous Game. To hunt people, chase down innocent humans, to play with their lives _for sport_. Something of it bothers Sam, a lot. It's not that they're hunting people. Or, it is, but that family was backwards, seemingly none-too-gifted mentally and yet just by virtue of hunting things that are prey, they know how humans will react when they're made the same.

It bothers her because if a human is no better than a deer if both are being hunted...humans are supposed to be intelligent. More evolved, less animal.

It really twists her up that they aren't.

 

 

He's reached the point with Sam where it's okay to break down in front of her, but he's not about to do it in public and they'd already made a scene-or half of one. She sidles up next to him in the Impala, one of his arms swung around her keeping her tight to his side, not that she minds. When they arrive at the parking lot he lets her go only far enough to grab her hand, tugging her through the driver's side door after him. HIs embrace, after the hotel room door closes, is crushing.

"You're alright," he marvels, their foreheads touching.

"Yeah," she promises, "I'm right here, Dean."

"Here." He repeats, kissing her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, her lips. Her eyes flutter shut at the gentleness, a content hum in her throat. He unbuttons her shirt slowly, unwrapping her like the gift he's always thought touching her to be. His kisses continue down the column of her throat, barely a press of lips as he slides the flannel off her shoulders. "You're beautiful, Sammy." He whispers like he's telling a secret, running his hands along her arms, down to the wrist and back up until they rested on either side of her neck. He kisses her again, even more careful. "I love you." He must really be rattled, she thinks, even as the level of vulnerability in his gaze, his voice, flays her open. Tenderness and love for him is overflowing, spilling out of her, too much to possibly contain.

Caressing his face, she responds. "And I love you. And I will _always_ love you. There is no time when you haven't been my world and there's no way in which I don't love you, Dean. I love you as the man who raised me and as my brother and as my best friend and as my partner and as my dearest, truest love." He kisses her again, in the same way he holds her: slow, soft, and careful. Touches her like crystal, worshipping her with his hands and his lips.

She can't even place words to how he's making her feel, like, _God_ , like she's something unspeakably precious and by the time they settle on the bed she's feeling so treasured it almost brings her to tears. Her eyes close of their own volition once more and he kisses her eyelids, determined to kiss and caress and memorize every single inch of her body.

"You're every good thing, Sammy." He sounds so raw and her heart swells, "You're peace; you're my _religion_ , Sam." He's kissing her hands and her fingers and her arms, holding her gaze and her hand while his left hand strokes her side. "You know that, don't you? I need you to know."

She does, she really does because-- "You're mine, too, Dean. You're _absolution_."

He kisses her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I re-watched the episode where Crowley has Dean try to do one of his deals and it was just hilarious. I mean
> 
> Demon Dean disapproves of your materialism. Demon Dean disapproves of your blatant sexism. Demon Dean is sick of your shit.
> 
> Consequently, Demon Dean is going to kill you, instead.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2x3

She's sorry that Dad's dead because she'll never be able to repair their relationship, because she never proved she was good enough, because she was driving, because he's her Dad.

She's not sorry that it isn't Dean.

She feels a little guilt about that, because she knows that Dean  _is._ She knows that he's hurting, too, because he didn't even make jokes about her fear of clowns last week. But mostly because of the way he is with Gordon, Mr. Black and White who reminds Dean of their father. He kind of makes Sam think of him, too. But John had a kindness and while the mission was partly revenge, he truly wanted to make the world safer, too. He didn't see the world in grays, that's true, but he was generally good.

Gordon's...not. When Ellen confirms it, it only makes her more sure. Then, of course, she meets the pack. They tell her about how they've been feeding on cattle. They say they don't hurt people and then they let Sam go. It is this act, more than anything, that convinces her they mean no harm. Of course, relaying this to Dean and their unfortunate tag-along goes about as well as she had expected it to. She'd known she would have to convince them, although she hadn't anticipated Gordon's reaction. She tells Dean what Lenore said, that she  _believes_ the vampire. Asks Dean to trust  _her._

He does. Of course he does and it turns out she's been right about Gordon all along.

 _Didn't like him anyway,_ Dean decides,  _he had a thing for Sammy's legs._

Which is true, but he'd been blind-sided; liked the guy fine until ten seconds ago when he'd cut open the most precious thing in Dean's world and done his best to feed her to a vampire. 

There's something raw and desperate when he takes her to bed that night. He's not quite sure why it hit him so damn hard this time; both have nearly died before. He has her pinned to the door as soon as it closes, though, and his hands hold her tight and she feels like salvation and tastes like home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Tumblr. illgodownwithmyships

**Author's Note:**

> From her out this'll be episodic so next chapter'll be correlative to 1X1 and so on


End file.
